


By Any Other Name

by DrakkHammer



Category: Being Human (UK), The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Angst, Britchell, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Roses and Thorns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 09:23:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrakkHammer/pseuds/DrakkHammer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mitchell is having a lovely day until he get to JPR and finds that Anders is not. There is a misunderstand, tears and a relationship that moves forward as they learn about themselves and each other. This is pure fluff for Valentine's Day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By Any Other Name

It was a typical late spring day in Auckland. The sun was warm and it looked like rain was going to hold off until evening. The nice about the location of Anders' condo was that you could walk to almost anything you wanted including his office. Mitchell strode down the street humming to himself. He loved Auckland with its temperate weather, sunshine, friendly people and most of all, his boyfriend, Anders. A year ago he could never have imagined that he would be as happy as he was now. It was an amazing feeling and he freely admitted that he was addicted to it. 

He went past a florist who had shining containers of fresh flowers arrayed outside the shop that looked for all the world as if the concrete had burst forth into riotous bloom. He stopped to smell the roses, frowning as he realized that they had no scent. The shop owner came out and lifted one that was a delicate pink shading to creme.

“Try this one. Most commercial roses don't have much scent any more,” he said sadly. “They bred them for production and took away their reason for being.”

Mitchell took the rose and sniffed it, smiling appreciatively at the elderly man. “I think people would pay more for roses that smell like they used to. My mother had wonderful roses. You could smell them even inside the house.”

“We had bushes like that too. You can still buy them for your garden, but you can't buy the blooms at a florist, I'm afraid.” He smiled as he picked up another yellow rose and sniffed it before putting it carefully back in the container. “So I try to find some scented ones for people like yourself who still have an appreciation for things that are important. These roses are still a little wild and have thorns and they aren't as big and showy as the others, but I think that just makes them more special.”

Things that are important. Those words echoed with Mitchell. He had spent his whole life trying to decide what was important. After a quest of a century he had found that all that was really important was a blue-eyed Kiwi who warmed his bed and filled his heart. When he'd met him, he'd thought that Anders was a rich businessman. But he hadn't been. When he'd nearly lost his agency and his home, Mitchell realized that he'd live in Anders' car if it meant being able to stay close to him. 

“I do try to appreciate the important things.” He sniffed the rose again and nearly put it back. It was lovely, and it was Anders. Smiling, he pulled it back out of the container to give to the florist. Mitchell walked toward the shop door around the flowers and nearly stepped on a delicate orchid that lay broken on the sidewalk. He bent and picked it up, holding it as if it were a butterfly he sadly held it out to the florist who took it and shook his head.

“Those boys who were by earlier. I thought they hadn't done any damage, but I guess they couldn't stand it. They had to break something. I'll put it in water and it will live a little longer.”

Mitchell looked at the delicate orchid. “May I buy it?”

The florist smiled and shook his head. “I can't sell it to you, but you may have it. It should go home with someone who will appreciate it. I will put it in a vial of water for you.” 

He handed it back along with the rose and the Irishman saw that he'd placed some babysbreath in with the rose so that it sat in a cloud of tiny white blooms looking etherial. “It's beautiful. Thank you and thanks for the orchid. I know the perfect person for it.”

Whistling happily he walked on down to JPR smiling and occasionally sniffing the rose. When he entered the office Dawn flagged him down. “Anders isn't having the best day. One of our biggest clients is being a total arse.” 

She spied the flower and smiled. “I think he could use a rose right now.”

“I hope it helps,” he said shyly. Then, remembering the orchid, he held it out to Dawn.

Her eyes went wide. “I love these, they look like butterflies.” She took it and held it up, marveling at the delicate lavender. “I didn't think they sold anything but the whole plant.”

“This one was broken off. I...I didn't want it to lay there and die. I thought you might appreciate it. I hope it doesn't matter that it was free.” He'd learned over the years that free wasn't worth much to most people. Most people weren't Dawn.

She hugged him warmly and stepped back smiling. “I love that you rescued it and thought of me. That makes it extra special.” The Irishman smiled and Dawn was reminded why Anders fell for him. 

She peeked in and saw that Anders was off the phone and sitting in his chair staring morosely at the contract in front of him. Turning back to Mitchell, she said, “I think it's safe to go in now.”

The vampire peeked around the corner just in time to see Anders snap the pencil he was holding and hurl the broken ends across the room. His eyebrows went up and Dawn chuckled. “He's not used to being told, no. He'll calm down now that you're here.”

Mitchell's brow furrowed, shading his eyes. “I hope you're right. Wish me luck.”

He entered the room with the rose held behind his back. Anders looked up at him and frowned. The Irishman ducked his head a little and smiled, letting his love for his boyfriend warm his eyes. “I heard you're having a crap day. I'm sorry.” He pulled the rose out from behind his back and held it out like a child hoping for approval. “Brought you a rose.”

The god swiveled his chair to face Mitchell, ignoring both his hopeful smile and the rose. “What makes you think some shit flower is going to help anything?” His voice was as cold and brittle as ice. 

“I...uh...I saw it and thought of you. It's special because it actually has a scent,” Mitchell was so surprised by Anders' tone that all he could do was stammer.

“I'm in the middle of trying to keep a big client from firing my ass. Was there something you wanted?”

“I just wanted to see you and...I wanted to give you something nice.” He had no idea what to say to Anders' barrage of negativity. 

His boyfriend looked at him coldly, eyes as blue as ice. I don't have time for this right now, Mitchell. Give the flower to Dawn so she can put it in water. I will see you tonight when I get home.”

Anders retuned to looking over the contract. Knowing he was dismissed, Mitchell turned around and left. He stopped by Dawn's desk and set the rose down sadly. She'd heard the entire conversation and l looked up at him in silent apology.

“I'll take good care of it, don't worry. He's just in a bad mood. I'm sure it will be better by the time he gets home.”

Mitchell blinked trying not to let the tears that were gathering spill over. He nodded and silently left. Dawn picked up the rose and stood looking at the closing door. She put it in a small white vase and then headed into her boss's office head high and step firm.

~ ~ ~

Mitchell went out of the office, but instead of heading back to the empty apartment, he found himself walking down toward the harbor. It was not the quietest place with most of the shore taken up by marinas, but it was wild water and being near it had always made the vampire feel better.

His long strides carried him out onto a pier and he walked to the end and just stood there looking at the ocean. He was so far away from anything he even remotely knew that it made him feel very small and lost. Auckland wasn't home. It was new and shiny with cement and glass instead of solid English brick. There was not the patina of age and the feeling of stability that all British cities had. Even the smell was different. It smelled of sea air and not of eons past. He was out of place here in so many ways. 

He belonged back where things were old...ancient like he was. Old and dark and ugly, with history that steeped into the ground like the ivy that climbed up the brick. He adjusted his sunglasses, squinting even behind their protection. He wasn't sea air and sunshine. He was crypts and dirt and death. Had he really thought he could leave what he was behind in the fog and rain? 

His knuckles turned white as he gripped the railing. He released it when it started to groan with the strain. He looked down and saw that he'd broken one of the bolts that held it to the post. He scrunched his eyes closed. It was a metaphor for his life...or rather his death. He was an agent of destruction no matter where he went. How had he ever thought he could just move and leave it all behind? 

He watched the gull wheeling and calling overhead. He wondered what it would be like to have that kind of freedom and be able to soar without the weight of his sins as a constant anchor to his past. After long minutes he slowly made his way back to Anders's condo. 

He walked in and was immediately confronted by Anders. Startled, he took a step back blinking stupidly at the barrage of words that poured over him.

 

“Where were you? Where did you go? I looked all over for you? I couldn't find you...I couldn't find you and I was afraid...” Anders' voice trailed off and he looked up at Mitchell, his eyes misting with tears.

“I'm so very sorry.” He closed his eyes for a moment and then looked back up, seeing confusion and pain on his boyfriend's face and in his eyes.

“I treated you like shit. I don't know why I'm such a fucking prick sometimes. I don't know what makes me act like that. I'm a loser and I'm always going to be a loser.” His breath hitched. “I'm so afraid I'll drive you away. No one but you has ever wanted to be around me. I act like such a twat most of the time. I...”

His words were cut off by the kiss. It went deep and stole away all the harsh words and thoughts. By the time Mitchell let him breathe all he could think about was how much he loved this big Irishman who seemed to like him no matter what. He rose up for another kiss, sliding his arms around the brunet's neck, leaning into the lean body that was pressed against him. Mitchell wound his arms around Anders, one around his ribs, the other slipping down to cup his rump and pull him in harder, never wanting to let him go. 

“What were you afraid of?” The words were soft in the god's ear as Mitchell pressed tiny kisses to his cheek.

Anders let his breath out in a long sigh. “That I'd lost you. That I'd finally been mean enough and stupid enough to drive you away. You wanted to see me and brought me a rose and I threw it in your face and insulted you. I'm a complete arse.”

“Yes you are. But you're like the rose,” he said gently. “As the florist told me the best ones are still a little wild and have thorns.” He kissed Anders tenderly. “That's you. You are a little wild like the rose and so very special...and you have thorns. I will sometimes get pricked on them, but if that's the price for loving someone so special, then I'll pay it.

Anders looked up at the man he loved. “What did I ever do to deserve someone like you?”

Mitchell smiled. “I ask myself that every morning when I roll over and see you next to me. I guess we will just have to keep working out the kinks. He bent and kissed the tears from the god's eyes. 

“Promise me that when you find a thorn you will always let me kiss it better?” 

“I promise. And promise me that you will always have thorns and stay wild and special.”

Anders' kiss was his reply. It went on and on and Mitchell forgot about England and the sea and everything except the wild and special man in his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> I just love these two...thorns and all


End file.
